Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss-Chapter 205: "You didn’t know?"

Chapter Two Hundred and Five

The rope creaked as Demir shifted, the chair legs scraping faintly against the concrete floor. His mouth still curved: crooked, and defiant.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, voice steady, almost bored. His gaze dragged lazily over Ahmet, as though he weren’t the one bound.

"At least I told you, you’re playing with what’s mine."

The words hung there.

Ahmet stilled.

For a moment, it wasn’t the ropes, or the chains, or even the lie beneath the man’s tone that pressed against his chest, it was that word.

Mine.

Something cold slid into his expression.

Asli’s face flickered in his mind; her sharp eyes, sharper tongue, the way she stood as no one could ever own her. Not even him. Not anyone.

Certainly not this man.

A quiet breath left Ahmet’s nose, but there was no calm in it.

Demir’s confidence irritated Ahmet the most. How cocky could he get? To be tied in a chair inside an enemy’s Cell and still be claiming something that wasn’t his.

Demir leaned back as much as the ropes allowed, the chair protesting beneath him. A low chuckle slipped out. It was rough but certain.

"You chaining me here..." he tilted his head, eyes glinting, "that’s not a mistake you walk away from."

He ignored Ahmet’s questioning gaze and continued. "I’ll give you a few days," he went on, voice gaining weight, each word placed with care. "My people will come looking."

His gaze sharpened.

"I doubt Asli will be much use to me then." A smirk tugged at his mouth. "She seems... occupied."

The air shifted.

"But my uncle?" Demir’s eyes flickered with something darker, something almost eager. "He won’t ask questions. He’ll skin you alive." A pause. "You already gave him enough reason when you tore through our warehouses."

Ahmet’s lips curved.

Slowly.

It was not wide. Not loud. Just enough.

"You know..." Ahmet said, voice almost thoughtful, like he was considering something, "I could sit here and listen to you."

He took a step closer. Then another.

The dim light caught the edge of his face, sharpening the angles, hollowing the shadows beneath his eyes.

"But I have more important things to do."

Demir’s smirk didn’t falter but something in his gaze shifted, just slightly.

Ahmet stopped in front of him.

Close enough.

"You mentioned your uncle," Ahmet continued, his tone soft now, almost conversational. "Interesting man. I thought he should know what you’ve been doing behind his back."

The words landed lightly. Too lightly.

Demir’s brows pulled together, just a fraction.

Ahmet watched it happen.

"I sent him everything," he added.

Silence. The kind that pressed into the ears.

For a second, nothing moved.

Then...

Demir’s fingers twitched against the rope.

It was small. Almost nothing.

But the smirk... it slipped completely. Just enough to crack.

Ahmet saw it.

Saw the way his shoulders tensed. A sheen of sweat began to gather along his hairline.

Ahmet’s smile deepened, just slightly.

"He wants you back," Ahmet said, almost gently. Not to save you. To finish you."

This time, Demir’s eyes betrayed him.

"But then... that’s not how we roll in here. That’s not how I roll in here." Ahmet’s voice cut in, low enough to slip under the tension, and sharp enough to slice through it.

Whatever trace of amusement had lingered in his face was gone now, stripped clean, as it had never been there to begin with. What remained was quieter. Heavier.

Deadly.

Demir watched him, brows tightening slightly, trying to read the shift, trying to find where the game had turned.

Ahmet stopped right in front of him. Close enough that Demir had to tilt his head just a little to keep his eyes on him.

"You know..." Ahmet murmured, almost absently, like he was bringing up something that didn’t matter to him. "Asli is pregnant."

The words dropped. He didn’t force it.

Just... dropped the news to see whether he actually knew or not.

Demir blinked.

Once. Then again.

The confusion came first, slowly, and unguarded. His face didn’t move much, but it was there, in the slight furrow of his brows, in the way his lips parted like he almost said something... then didn’t.

"She is?"

It came out quieter than anything he’d said since he’d been dragged into that room.

Either he didn’t know or he was good. Good enough to let it sit on his face like that.

Ahmet’s gaze didn’t leave him. Not for a second.

He watched the confusion linger, stretch, settle, waiting for it to crack, to slip, or to reveal the truth beneath it. But Demir held it just long enough to make it uncertain.

Too long.

Ahmet’s eyes narrowed, just slightly.

"So..." His voice was still quiet, though stripped of the earlier edge, but heavier for it. "Why did you give her the water then?"

This time, the silence didn’t feel empty. It thickened and pressed. If he didn’t know she was pregnant, why then did he give her the water? Why did he sound like he knew the water had caused something?

Demir didn’t answer immediately. He was looking past the moment, past the room, running through something only he could see.

Counting.

Measuring.

The ropes creaked softly as his fingers flexed against them, once... then stilled.

His jaw shifted. A breath in. Slow and careful. When his eyes lifted again, they didn’t carry the same careless arrogance from before. Something had changed. Like a man recalculating his next move.

The cell door opened with a low creak, and Markus stepped in, already expecting the worst.

He slowed. Something was off.

Demir sat restrained, yes but not ruined. Not even close. No bone looked broken, no slackness in his limbs, no signs that the men had pushed him to the edge and back.

Markus’ gaze shifted.

Ahmet stood a few steps away, composed... almost idle, like this was just another conversation and not a man who should’ve been screaming by now.

Markus’ brows drew together.

"What did you get out of him?"

Ahmet didn’t answer immediately. His eyes lingered on Demir for a moment longer, as though weighing something unseen, before he spoke.

"Just got here."

Markus blinked once, thrown off by how easily it came.

"He talks. But not the information we tied him up for," Ahmet added, tone even. "He says Asli belongs to him." A slight pause. "He hinted he knows about us. I’m not sure if he knows she’s pregnant."

That snapped something tight in Markus’ chest.

"And when I asked again," Ahmet went on, "he acted like he didn’t."

Silence pressed in.

Markus stared at him, searching his face for something; anger, urgency, or anything that made sense.

"Why are you calm?"

The question slipped out, edged with disbelief.

Ahmet’s lips curved, slow and deliberate.

"I’m suddenly in a good mood."

Markus let out a sharp, disbelieving breath.

"That’s bullshit." His voice echoed, louder now, filling the space with something raw and unfiltered.

"Someone almost killed your child and you’re standing in front of a suspect like this?" He took a step forward, anger sharpening every word. "You went after your father like you were ready to tear him apart because you thought he had something to do with it."

Another step.

"And now you’re calm? With him?"

Ahmet didn’t flinch.

If anything, the faint smile on his face deepened, stretching into something darker.

That was when Demir leaned forward slightly, also realizing Ahmet could be planning something deadly.

"Your father and my uncle go way back."

Ahmet’s head snapped toward Demir, the shift instant. "Shut up."

Demir barely reacted, only tilting his head slightly, like he was adjusting to the tone.

"Oh, come on," he said lightly. "Not you, Ahmet." His gaze slid to Markus, sharp now. Intentional. "I meant his father. That man should have been dead by now."

Markus moved before the words fully settled.

His fist connected with a sickening crack, snapping Demir’s head to the side. The chair scraped harshly against the floor as Markus grabbed him, dragging him forward despite the restraints.

"Say that again."

The words came out low, tight, and threaded with something violent.

Demir’s head lolled for a second before lifting again, a thin line of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.

Markus didn’t wait.

He shoved him back hard, then surged forward again, hand locking around his throat. Fingers pressed in, cutting off air, forcing Demir’s head back against the metal frame.

"Don’t you ever..."

Demir’s breath hitched.

His body strained against the restraints, veins rising under his skin. Then a sound broke through.

A laugh came. Rough. Strangled. But unmistakable.

Markus’ grip tightened for a split second before something in that sound made him pause.

Demir coughed as air forced its way back into his lungs, shoulders rising with each breath but the smile didn’t disappear.

It stayed.

Like the pain meant nothing.

Markus released him with a sharp shove, stepping back, chest rising and falling as he tried to shake off the urge to finish it.

Demir straightened slowly, rolling his neck as though working out a minor ache. "You know..." he rasped, voice rough but steadying, "I could share something useful."

Neither of them responded.

His gaze flicked between them, measuring.

"In exchange for my freedom."

Ahmet moved then.

Not toward Markus.

Toward the table.

Metal whispered softly as his fingers closed around the tool. When he turned, the faint light caught against it, glinting just enough to draw attention.

He walked back, unhurried. Each step deliberate.

Demir watched him.

And there it was.

A flicker. It was quick and barely there.

But real.

Ahmet saw it and something in his expression shifted, satisfaction curling beneath the surface.

"Okay," Demir said, a fraction too quickly. "Fine."

Ahmet stopped just within reach. Close enough for the tension to breathe between them.

"Markus’ father worked with my uncle," Demir continued, voice steadier now, like he’d forced it back into place. "He wanted this empire. He needed help taking it. That’s why my uncle thought Markus would follow the same path."

Markus didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t give him anything.

"He realized you weren’t," Demir went on. "That you and Ahmet were playing him. Your father promised something in return. I mean, he helped my Uncle take something instead."

Ahmet’s grip tightened, just slightly.

"He killed their daughter."

"What daughter?" The question came sharp, and overlapping.

Demir smiled.

"You didn’t know?" His eyes locked onto Ahmet. "Your sister."

The air in the room shifted. Everything stilled.

Ahmet didn’t move or didn’t blink.

"I had a sister?"